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There will never come a day, hour, minute or second I stop loving or thinking about my son.

If you love a bereaved parent or know someone who does, remember that even his or her “good” days are harder than you could ever imagine. If you’d like an inside look into why the loss of a child is a grief that lasts a lifetime, here is what I’ve learned in my seven years of trekking through the unimaginable.

Kim knew her daughter had been writing in her diary and Kim wondered what was going on in her daughter's head. Instead, she found that her daughter was happy and loved her life. I am determined to know everything that goes on under this roof. Can you imagine if those boys in Steubenville had parents who enforced this rule?

Kim wrote a sweet and endearing post about this experience and her relief to find her daughter happy and healthy. I'm not stupid enough to think that I will always know what's happening, there will be secrets they'll manage to keep, but I'm also not stupid enough to think my kids will just tell me everything that's going on in their lives. I can't be lazy or complacent and just think my kids are good kids because they have decent grades and their friends seem OK. Can you imagine getting your son's phone and seeing pictures of a girl being violated by him and his friends?

Now, it's known that the Huffington Post has some of the meanest, angriest, trolliest commenters around. Do you think those boys would have taken those pictures if they suspected their parents might see them?

I always imagine many of them living in vans down by the river or licking Cheetos residue from their fingers while typing their raging opus in their mother's dark basements. I know I've had to pee in many a cup to get a job and I know that my emails were read and my phone conversations were monitored. Do you think they would have uploaded videos to Youtube laughing at the victim and calling her names if they thought for a second their parents would access their Youtube accounts? But I'm not surprised the Steubenville boys didn't have rules like these.

She demanded to know who the girl was and her son told her.

Strangers become kindreds in mere seconds– a look, a glance, a knowing of the heart connects us, even if we’ve never met before.

No matter our circumstances, who we are, or how different we are, there is no greater bond than the connection between parents who understand the agony of enduring the death of a child.

My friend Kim at Let Me Start By Saying wrote an essay that was featured on the Huffington Post.

It was about reading her five-year-old daughter's diary. She was worried she might find out that her daughter was sad or angry or hiding something. When my kids are teenagers, they will know that at any moment I can ask them to hand over their cell phones, laptops, whatever equipment they'll be carrying by then, so that I can see who they're talking to and what they're talking about.

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